King's Cross
by Aspiring Oneironaut
Summary: A look at the characters who died over the course of the series and how their "King's Cross" differs from Harry's.
1. James Potter

_James Potter_

If James Potter knew the last thing he would see was You-Know-Who's face, he would have asked to choke to death on chicken instead.

Shaking his head, he sits up, running a hand through his thick, black hair. It's bright here, almost blinding to his eyes. He can barely even squint. _Man. I just wish there was someplace less blinding that I could go._

And, like that, James is no longer in the bright place. He's not sure where he is now, or how to describe it. Just as quickly as he thinks this, he decides he has "gone on." It fills with everything and nothing, all at once. He's not even sure if he has a body anymore. He is sentient with a lack of directed energy and focus. He does not command himself anymore. All he knows is floating over to a hole and looking down, seeing Earth.

Strangely, he has the power to zoom in. He first looks at Sirius' place before seeing it's abandoned. Could it be Padfoot knew—?

Moony is gone from his hidey-hole as well. And Wormtail? Where is he? Gulping, James turns back to where he just came from, his little cottage in Godric's Hollow…

He watches You-Know-Who— _Voldemort_ , he thinks savagely, because in death what is there to fear about a mere man?—climb the stairs. James studies his body in the vision in detail. Etched onto his face is fear and panic, not at all the bravery he would prefer would be there. He sighs, or perhaps only thinks he does. Suddenly, he jolts back to the hole and stares down, zooming in as Voldemort throws the door to the baby's bedroom open with magic.

Just setting Harry down, Lily looks up like a doe in the headlights. As Harry begins to cry, Lily faces Voldemort and flings her arms open. A pang runs through James: Lily has always been far braver than he himself. He has never met anyone like her. The fear sparkling in her eyes is not for herself, he realizes, but for their son.

Harry cries from his crib. Voldemort and Lily stare at each other for a brief moment before her shaking, alto voice cuts in.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

Voldemort inches closer. James cannot see underneath his cloak, and for that he is glad. He hopes Lily will look at Harry before she goes. Voldemort's voice, high and cold, snarls, "Stand aside, you silly girl… Stand aside now…"

"Not Harry!" Lily interjects immediately. Her whole form shakes, but she does not break her protective pose. "Please, no, take me, kill me instead!"

Voldemort tilts his head. James can't keep his eyes off of what is unfolding before him. He knows what will happen before it does, but sick grief and fascination keeps him rooted to the spot. _You could be reprieved, Lily!_

Lily takes a step toward Voldemort. "Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"

At the sound of the shrill laughter and Lily's screams, James turns away. He sees a reflection of green light off of the surface of wherever he is now. Is this the place where people watch others die? _No_ , he reasons. _This is where we watch over the living_. He turns back, startled when Voldemort is no longer there and it is only his crying son echoing off the walls of the cottage with the dead bodies of his two parents.

In that moment, James knows where he must return to. He wills himself back to the bright place, hoping it tones itself down so he can see his brave wife before him.


	2. Lily Evans Potter

_Lily Evans Potter_

Lily wakes suddenly, breathing heavy. She pushes herself to her elbows, eyes wide. It all comes flashing back to her. Harry, her little Harry, and You-Know-Who raising his wand—

She shakes her head and looks around. It is very clean here, almost a little posh. It gleams white, and she notices her long red hair contrasts greatly with her surroundings. Just as soon as she realizes this, she also realizes she is naked. She stands, peering around. Where is she? And why can't she have some clothes?

As soon as she thinks this, a flowery dress and a pair of sandals appear before her. She goes to them immediately, dressing. Just as she slips on her last sandal, she hears a bemused voice say, "You didn't _have_ to dress, you know."

She turns around. James grins at her from a distance. He runs to her, and she is knocked over by the force of his embrace. They kiss. They laugh. As he pecks her neck, Lily stiffens. James sits up immediately, a hand on her shoulder. "Lily?"

A tear escapes down her cheek, but it is on the side not facing James, so she lets it run down to her chin and hang there. She sniffs. "James… Where's Harry?"

James does not answer. He envelops her in a hug. "If he's not here, then he's still there."

"What if no one finds him? What if You-Know-Who took him? What if—"

"There is a place," James says quickly. "Where you can go and watch over the living. It is more beautiful and sometimes more terrible than this place we are in now."

Lily crinkles her brow. "Where is it?"

"On."

"How did you get there before me, then?"

James smiles. "I guess time works differently here than it does there."

She can't help but smile back. The way his glasses hang off his nose, his purposefully-messed up hair… Most importantly, his dedication to her and Harry is something she won't forget, not even in this new life. "James?"

"Yeah?"

"You went beyond. 'On.' What did you see? What was happening there, with Harry?"

He remains silent for a brief moment, but then his arms tighten around her. "I saw him open Harry's bedroom door. I saw him pull his wand on you while you pleaded for him to spare Harry over yourself. He wanted you to stand aside, Lily. You could have."

She turns and places a hand on his cheek. "I know. But where would Harry be if I hadn't? He deserves the fullest life there that he can get before coming here."

James nods, looking into her eyes. She grabs his hands, squeezes, and says, "James. It's you and me here."

A tear rolls down James' face. Startled by it, she wipes it up with her finger. "We don't get to help our boy grow up, though."

Wrapping her arms around him, they sit there, together, crying some, allowing the silence to fill them otherwise. Finally, after some time or perhaps no time at all, Lily says, "You came back for me."

James pulls away and crinkles his brow. "Well, yeah."

"No. I mean here, in whatever this place is. You came to greet me." She smiles. "Thank you for playing Death for me. It's comforting." She kisses him, pulls away, and throws her arms around him. She whispers, "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."

Then they stand, smiles for only each other, and depart this life as equals.


	3. Quirinus Quirrell

_Quirinus Quirrell_

It is dark, shadowy. The pillars rise tall above him. Quirinus Quirrell stands, shaking, naked. His turban is long gone. He feels exposed and immediately goes to cover himself. Just as soon as he does this, a cloaked figure emerges from the pillars. Quirrell gulps, his hands clutching his privates tighter. He dares not speak.

The cloaked figure raises its hand. It does not speak either, but it draws Quirrell to him. Shrieking, Quirrell finds himself in front of it. When he looks up into the hood, he sees nothing but pitch-black mass. "Who are you?" he croaks.

For whatever reason, the cloaked figure does not answer and instead strokes Quirrell's bald head, in the back. And suddenly, as he is petted, Quirrell knows this is no mortal meeting him. This being stretches far beyond humanity, and this both excites and petrifies Quirrell. Here is his new master.

There is not much left to do, other than to allow the cloaked figure to envelop Quirrell in his cloak and take off, flying with skeletal wings. Quirrell closes his eyes. Yes, yes—as long as he doesn't have to make the decision about where he goes next, he'll pledge himself to his new lord.


	4. Tom Riddle, Jr (The Diary)

_Tom Riddle, Jr. (The Diary)_

For Tom Riddle, it hurts everywhere, most of all in his chest, like someone went through his heart with a steel blade. He winces and, shaking, stands up, brushing his hands off on his bare knees. He realizes he is naked. _Clothes_. Immediately, robes appear, and he dresses. For the first time, he notices how dark this place is. A thick fog rests near the ground here. Seeing a figure in the distance, he squints.

An old man wobbles toward him. Recognizing Headmaster Dippet, Tom straightens himself out and pushes his shoulders back, his nose slightly raised. "Good evening."

Professor Dippet raises an eyebrow. "Good evening, Tom."

They stare at each other. In this moment, Tom senses that their relationship has changed. Another sharp pain runs through his chest, and he clutches it, digging his fingernails through his robes. Why does it hurt so much?

"Because you did the unspeakable," says Dippet, and Tom realizes he has spoken aloud. He squints at Dippet, lip curled. "So what? I have done what no one else dared to do."

"Yet you are still here. Interesting, wouldn't you say, Tom?"

Tom steps forward but is struck with another round of pain. He winces. "You don't know… anything—"

"I daresay I have seen everything I needed to know." Dippet smiles crudely. "I've watched you for many years from above, Tom. You've done horrible things, even in your time at Hogwarts."

Tom sneers. "Hagrid deserved to be blamed for the basilisk—"

"And the death of your peer Myrtle?"

Suddenly, Tom falls to the ground, ripping at the robes near his chest. It's hot, burns. He looks up. "You're full of it. You never suspected me on Earth."

"Well." Dippet squats down beside Tom's shaking form. "Time on Earth is different than time here, I'm afraid. I saw more of you than I ever did when I was alive. You played me for a fool, Tom."

"I played you for what you are—weak!"

Dippet stands up, looking down Tom with cold eyes. "You have a choice, Tom. You can move on or return Earth to wander."

Snarling, Tom lets out a yelp. Then he looks up at Dippet and laughs. "And if I choose neither?"

Raising his eyebrows, Dippet turns on the spot. "You're stuck here."

As Dippet walks away, Tom laughs. Let him be stuck here, then… He'd rather be here than anywhere else, for there is no one waiting for him, absolutely no one.


End file.
